He could not but yield; he told her the little he knew. She lay very still by his side, and after a long time she said in a low voice: “I saw Ellah to-day.” “He’s about, is he?” “With a stick.” “Where was he--here?” “No; he goes to the ‘Fullers’’ now.” “He’s a lucky man, if he but knew it. Now, darling, go to sleep, and don’t lie awake fretting for Sally. Promise me----” “I’ll try,” she said. But she lay awake long after he slept soundly, and the perturbation of her thoughts showed in her manner during the days that followed. She sang over and over again the songs she knew, singing upstairs, downstairs and about, dreading to be silent for a minute; and at night she went to bed tired out, and sometimes had to lie down for an hour during the afternoon, exhausted with this forcing of her spirits.--“Whisht, ye puss!” Sally would say, kissing her or making believe to chastise her hands and wrists. “Whisht, or I’ll send for Dooina now!” and Cicely, thankful that her restlessness was thus set down, would embrace her passionately and pray that Sally might not be aware of the tears that fell sometimes on her hair. Sally would make confidences, too, which harrowed Cicely; even this acted happiness of her friend would sometimes bring a quick sadness into Sally’s eyes; and then Cicely would hurriedly set about some occupation, making work for herself, and singing again. Thus passed a fortnight of the blazing midsummer. Ellah was about again, but pitifully changed. Folk turned to watch him as he passed--it was not known how he had come by his accident, save that he had fallen down the Scout--and they said that even yet he would be better at home than limping about Horwick, let alone the expense, for he stayed now at the “Fullers’ Arms.” His left hand dangled helplessly before his breast, an idiot gesture, and his right shook and wavered as he supported himself with a stick. His former dread of open spaces was now become so exaggerated that he would not venture into the market-place nor scarce cross even a narrow street; and he hobbled along close to walls, going thrice the distance rather than venture beyond the gutter. He said he felt easier so. On one foot he wore a felt slipper; and folk said that he was lucky to have got off with his wits only a little worse muddled than before.